


A Sidestep from the Trail

by Mendax



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mendax/pseuds/Mendax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to Chris, "the law has no goddamned balls, brains or guts in this part of the world far as I can see." (Honeymoon Trail part 12) So how the does the law sees all these goings-on? Takes place during Honeymoon Trail part 14, The Interminable Journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sidestep from the Trail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randi2204](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/gifts), [JoJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/gifts).



> I can't stay out of randi2204's sandboxes. Everything she and JoJo are doing with the Honeymoon Trail series made me ponder just what the townspeople think of all this. And then in her last section, randi went and made me kinda like the sheriff.

Ada Bundy set a steak and kidney pie — Tom's favorite — on the table just before he came in from washing up and sat down. 

"That looks mighty delicious," he said, and there was warmth in his eyes that showed he appreciated the effort. But he still looked mostly tired, his graying hair mussed and the lines between his brows deeper than they'd been just weeks ago, before those men had come to their town.

She always worried for her husband. Being sheriff of a frontier town wasn't the safest occupation. But everything seemed so much more dangerous now. Things had got so bad Tom had even wired Governor Hopewell. 

There'd been a woman shot, and more. Two women, it was said. But Ada knew better. She didn't like to think on it, God-fearing woman as she was. 

But that was just the start of it. On the heels of the shooting had come the men: three of them who joined Mr. Larabee. They claimed to be lawmen themselves, from some place further west, but the way they prowled the town, guns on display and practically bristling with nerves and aggression told a different tale. As did the way they tried to threaten and intimidate Tom.

Someone should have told them that Tom wasn't the sort to be intimidated.

"You look tired," she said as she scooped a serving of pie onto Tom's plate. "Can't Duncan and Joe spell you some more so you can get some rest?"

"They ain't sheriff," he replied. "May need them soon anyway. Two more of Larabee's 'lawman' friends showed up today. Big fella about my age came by the jail for a spell, and Jack says there's a kid who seems awful twitchy with his guns too."

"You don't think they'll make an attempt on the jail, do you?"

He frowned and chewed thoughtfully. "Don't reckon so. But there's gonna be trouble. Mrs. Larabee has plenty of guns of her own; they just ain't causing as much trouble."

"Mrs. Larabee?" Ada asked, raising her eyebrow. When she'd been brought into jail, Tom had called her Miz Gaines. Then it had just been "that woman" for a while.

Tom shrugged. "Unless I find out otherwise. Wasn't sure she was right in the head at first, but I think she must've just been driven half mad by ... well, by all that. Can't have been easy for her. I wish the lot of them had picked a different town," he said sourly, "but I feel for her some."

Ada carefully set her fork aside and planted her palms flat on the table. "You listen to me, Tom Bundy," she said calmly, and he froze, eyes jerking up to meet hers. "You're a good man, and a good sheriff, but Lord knows you can be a fool about some things. That woman is a cat. Don't you go believing a word she says or you'll be sorry for it."

He stared at her for a moment with some astonishment, then sighed like it came right from his toes. "I hate this whole damn business," he muttered.

Ada agreed. Mostly because of the dangerous men on all sides and her Tom in the middle. Partly because of how worn and unhappy he looked, and how little she could do in aid of it. And partly because of the unnatural scandal she wished she knew nothing about. Because she'd seen them, before. When they'd been Mr. and Mrs. Chris Larabee, newly wed. 

She'd seen them strolling through the town, visiting the shops. She'd admired Mrs. Larabee's fine dress and what it did for what she'd thought at the time was merely a heavy figure. She'd been caught by the apparent shyness of the lady with strangers — it was Mr. Larabee who conversed with people while his wife stood demurely by — in contrast to what seemed a great facility for conversation with her husband. They would walk arm in arm, closer than was proper, he with his head bent to hear her quiet tones. He laughed often, and when he did, she would duck her head with a pleased smile.

They had looked like two people in the delight of early love, entirely caught up in one another. They had looked happy.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," Tom said, and pushed away his plate. "I just ain't hungry."

"No," she replied. "Neither am I."


End file.
